Void Stuff
by nicnac918
Summary: An old and wise Vulcan imparts some advice on an older, but not always wiser, Time Lord. Ninth in Many Intersecting Planes


Spock had just finished lighting his incense and had sat down for meditation, when a noise suddenly filled the air. Spock believed it to be the noise of a spaceship, or a craft of some kind, though it lacked the steadiness that Spock typically associated with an engine; this sound had an almost cyclical quality to it. In short order, the noise became accompanied by the slow fading in of a large bright blue box – similar to the telephone booths of 20th century Earth.

Spock stood back up, preparing to either greet his guest, or do what he could to fend off an intruder. The vessel fully solidified a minute later, and a few moments after that a being that appeared like a human male with short cropped hair and wearing a leather jacket poked his head out of the door. Appeared like, because at this point Spock couldn't be sure that was the being's true form, and even if it was it didn't necessarily anything.

"Wherever this is, it smells good in here," the man commented, and Spock dropped the likelihood of him being hostile by 32.76%

"Thank you. Though most humans find the smell off-putting," Spock stated, trying to fish for information.

"Well, I'm not human, am I?" the man said. "I'm the Doctor. Are you Cave Spock, by any chance?"

At that, Spock allowed himself to rest his guard completely. "I am," he confirmed. "And you have been talking to James Kirk."

"That I have!" the Doctor agreed, stepping the rest of the way out of his vessel and shutting the door behind him. "Lovely chap. A bit less sex-crazed than rumors would suggest. You know he didn't try to flirt with me even once."

"Do not take it personally, I believe he already has his eye on someone else," Spock commented. It was amusing to watch this young Jim chasing after Spock, though Spock did rather hoped that his own Jim had been more subtle in his pursuit; Spock would hate to think he had been as oblivious as his younger self was being. "I hope that's not why you were seeking him out."

"Course not. I was looking for you, actually, but I got the wrong Spock. Never ask a dragon for directions," the Doctor advised sagely. Or at least, Spock presumed from his tone that he was attempting to be sage, despite the fact his comment was utter nonsense.

"I wasn't aware that dragons could talk," Spock commented. "Though, if they could, my experience is that animals with flight also have excellent senses of direction."

"Great sense of direction, yeah, but dragons are bloody awful at giving anything away, even if it is just directions," the Doctor replied, completely ignoring the question of dragons' inability to talk.

"I see," Spock said. He didn't, but with less logical species, Spock often found that it was more expedient to simply agree with them, and then try to sort out anything of import they might have been trying to say later. "What can I do to help you, then?"

The Doctor grinned. "A little birdie, or dragon as the case may be, told me that you've been traveling around through time, centuries before the Federation is supposed to have any of that sorted out. At least reliably without resorting to the old, slingshot around the sun trick. That's not what you did is it?" he asked, sounding almost disappointed at the prospect.

"No, it is not. Why do you wish to know; are you a time agent?" Spock asked. Granted, the Doctor did seem all that much like the one time agent Spock had met previously, but that had been a long time ago, and Spock's principle memory of the incident was of the man's reaction to Jim, a strange mixture of hero-worship and the morbid fascination that humans sometime showed when watching a car accident or other disaster.

"Course not, can't stand that lot. Mucking about trying to police time like they know the first thing about it," the Doctor said dismissively. "No, just call me an interested third party."

Spock considered the man. Knowledge of both time travel and red matter were not the kinds of things to be shared lightly, but, on the other hand, from his comments it seemed the Doctor already knew how to do the first and as to the latter, Jim wouldn't have sent the Doctor here if he didn't think he could be trusted. "It was a combination of a supernova, warp drive, and a black hole created by red matter," Spock told him.

"See, I thought Sherlock said red matter, but I thought he must have been confusing things. Is this what you're talking about?" the Doctor asked, pulling out a pad a paper and a pen and scribbling out a quick chemical formula.

Spock raised one eyebrow. "Yes, that's it exactly."

"But that can't be right; you can't travel through time with red matter. Unless…" The Doctor reached inside his jacket again, and this time pulled out a paper glasses with cellophane lenses, one red and one blue. He put them on, looked at Spock, and grinned. "Oh, fantastic!"

Spock regretted having raised his eyebrow a moment ago, as it was far too soon to do it again. "What is fantastic?"

"You didn't travel through time at all. You jumped across universes. This one just happens to be a century behind where you came from, so you thought you had traveled through time."

"Those glasses are for identifying people that aren't from this universe?" Spock asked, because that would have come in handy back in his days on the Enterprise. In fact, Jim and Spock's alternate self might appreciate a pair.

"No, these are just normal 3D glasses," the Doctor said. "But they do let me see void stuff."

"I believe 'void stuff' would be a contradiction in terms," Spock remarked.

"Everything is a contradiction if you look at it the right way," the Doctor said offhandedly, before returning to the previous topic. "What happens is, in order to travel between universes, you have to pass though the void. When you do, some of the void-ness tends to stick." The Doctor took the glasses off and slipped them back into his pocket, which allowed Spock to take him a bit more seriously. "Now that that's settled, how would you like to come explore the universe with me?"

It might have been a tempting offer a century ago with Jim at his side. But then, perhaps not, because Spock couldn't imagine a Jim exploring the galaxy separate from Starfleet. In any case, it was illogical to dwell on what was past and would never be, and now it was easy enough for Spock to say, "No, thank you. I've had enough adventures for one lifetime."

"Typical," the Doctor said. "The TARDIS can travel anywhere in the universe, anywhere in all of time and space, and suddenly I can't give rides away. I'm beginning to suspect that this regeneration smells funny."

"If I may make an observation?" Spock ventured.

"Not if it's to tell me I smell funny."

"It must have been apparent to you even when you asked that I am too old to seriously consider your offer," Spock said.

The Doctor waved his concerns off. "No such thing as too old. I died of old age once, and look at me now."

Spock let that comment pass unquestioned, having heard stranger in his time, and not wanting to lose his point. "What I meant was, maybe no one is accepting your offer because you keep asking the wrong people."

"Well I tried asking the right person, but she said no too," the Doctor objected.

Ah. So that was the problem. "Jim, my Jim, made a very similar request of me once. After our first five year mission together on the _Enterprise_ , he wanted to embark on another as soon as Starfleet would allow us to. I, for a great many foolish reasons that seemed valid in the moment, turned him down. I came to regret my decision very quickly, but I was too stubborn to admit it, and Jim was too proud and hurt to object. But when he finally did ask me to rejoin him on the _Enterprise_ for the second time, I agreed. I believe I would have, even if we hadn't wasted years on stubbornness and pride in between."

"You think I should ask her again? Will that help?" the Doctor asked.

"I do not know," Spock said. "But I do not believe it can hurt."

"That… is a fantastic idea," the Doctor said, looking as happy as Spock had ever seen him thus far. Then, without so much as a goodbye, he got back in his box and left.

The noise of the craft departing had barely ceased, indeed Spock hadn't even had time to sit back down, when the noise started up again and the craft faded back into view. Spock raised his eyebrow and prepared to make a comment about the Doctor's quick return, but when the door opened and the man almost tumbled out from inside, it quickly became clear that a good deal more time had passed for him than Spock. It wasn't that the man inside didn't look at all the same physically as the one who had left just a moment ago – his clothes had changed, his hair was much longer, and even his build and facial features were different – that convinced Spock of this; after all, he had seen aliens able to perform much more astonishing feats than simply changing their appearance in an instant. No, what convinced him was the utter devastation that now clung to the Doctor like a miasma.

"She's gone," the Doctor said, and Spock didn't think the man could see him through his own sorrow. "She was right there, helping me to save the day like she always did, and then suddenly… And I couldn't do anything to save her and I thought she was going to die. But she didn't die, Pete saved her and now she's trapped in another universe where I'll never see her again. No more going to strange planets together just to see her eyes light up, no more joking around together, no more saving the day together, no more stops to visit her mum together. No more Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler."

"I grieve with thee," Spock said, and the Doctor's head snapped up.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have come here. You've lost your entire universe and all I've lost-"

"Is someone you care about deeply," Spock completed for him. For just a moment, Spock could feel himself reliving all the times, each and every one of them, that he had been certain that this was going to be the time Jim wasn't going to make it back to him. There had been so many of them, far too many for even a seasoned starship captain, and yet they had never gotten any easier, not to the last. "Sometimes, it seems like much the same thing." Then, making a bit of a guess – Jim would have been proud – he added. "And it can be much harder to lose everything for the second time."

"What do I do?" the Doctor asked, and for a second, this man, this being, who Spock was certain was far older and had seen far more that Spock ever would, seem completely lost and almost childlike.

Spock sat down on his mat and gestured at the space in front of him. "I was about to do my evening meditation. Please, join me."

"Will that help?" the Doctor said, already sitting as Spock had suggested.

"I do not know," Spock repeated. "But I do not believe that it can hurt."

* * *

Next fic is "Three Captains Walk into a Bar" (Story ID:11838233)


End file.
